


Contradictions

by stopmopingstarthoping



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/stopmopingstarthoping
Summary: Gladio struggles with the burdens of becoming a Shield, and his father steps in to help. A snapshot of the process of becoming the protector of the Crown.





	Contradictions

"A Shield must defend himself to defend his king."

"A Shield never surrenders."

"A Shield never falters, and will lay down his life to protect his king."

"A Shield never leaves his king's side."

"A Shield must manage the field of battle to minimize risk to his king."

"A Shield...."

The words swam in front of his eyes, and he drooped his head down onto his folded arms. None of this stuff made sense. How was he supposed to go out and bash enemies while staying stuck at the prince's side? How was he supposed to fight to the death, but also make sure he didn't die?

Ugh, this stuff was the worst, made even more incomprehensible by the late nights his father had been enforcing ever since...

He swept his arm across the table, shoving the Principles to the floor. He slumped in his chair, and then looked up at the ceiling and sighed heavily.

He started at the quiet clip of a boot on the stone doorstep.

"Dad! I was just...."

"It's all right Gladio. It looks like you've gotten frustrated. I know I've been putting a lot on you lately." Clarus stepped over and placed his arm on the boy's shoulder. "It's just that everything has been happening so fast. We need you to be ready much sooner than I'd feared."

"I'm sorry, you know. For what it's worth. I had hoped you had many more years yet of simply being a boy. Playing, the way I did with Regis. But the attack - well, it changed all that. And you can see as well as I can that all this" - Clarus gestured overhead - "is taking a grave toll on the King. You must be ready. You must be able to make Noctis ready."

Gladio was quiet for a long time.

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

"What if I'm not good enough?"

"Good enough? Gladiolus, you're twice as fast and three times as strong as any boy in your year, and -"

"Not muscle, Dad. Brains. I know I'm strong, and fast. But what if I do the wrong thing at the wrong time? These Principles, they don't make any sense when you read them all together! I thought I was smart - I am smart - but I don't understand this!"

His voice had risen in volume throughout, his fists clenched tightly by his sides.

Clarus gently picked up the worn book and placed it on the table.

"Frustration and self-doubt are your biggest enemies, Gladiolus. They will distract you from your singular focus."

"But what do I focus on? Protect, or attack? I can't be everywhere at once. I can't be offense and defense at the same time. But this stupid book seems to think that's the only way for me to be a Shield."

Gladio covered his face with his hands and continued. "Before you start, I know, I know it's not a stupid book and that Shields have lived by it for hundreds of years. But I just don't get it."

Clarus sat down at the wooden desk opposite his son, and smoothed the pages.

"Son, don't think of this as a list of instructions that all have to be true at the same time. For example, you have to eat and sleep properly to stay healthy, correct? And those are both true?"

"Yeah, but not at the same time. Okay. So this is a list of... possibilities?"

"Precisely. You must think of yourself always as at the intersection of many paths. Watch, wait, and be aware of what is ahead, always ready to change your strategy depending on what is appropriate."

"But how will I know that?"

Clarus tapped his chest, right above where his X pendant hung. "Not to be sentimental, but you'll feel it in your body. Your training and your Guiding Principle will tell you."

"The Guiding Principle - A Shield protects his King."

"Correct."

Clarus continued gently. "You are struggling with frustration, son. What should you do?"   
  
He sighed. "Beat the crap out of someone in the gym tomorrow?" Thoughts of the glint of afternoon sun off glass lenses, the wry quirk of a corner of a mouth, and the clack of wooden daggers flashed through his mind. He pushed these thoughts away as massively unhelpful.

Clarus frowned. "I've been hearing from the Glaives that you're already doing just that. No, what other tools do you have at your disposal?" His tone was gentle yet firm.

Gladio sighed. "Concentration - meditation? I haven't been doing a great job on that lately."

Clarus nodded. "It seemed so." He clapped a large hand on his son's shoulder. "Let's try now."

"Here - now? Okay..." He stood up from his chair and walked over toward the clear space in the middle of the room.

Sitting down cross-legged, father and son sat eye to eye. Clarus looked at Gladio as though he could pour fortitude and support into him through his eye sockets. Closing their eyes, they began to breathe deeply, in a practiced rhythm, turning inward.

Gladio could almost feel his shoulders knot as warring, contradictory thoughts sought to distract him from the slow in and out of his breath. He struggled to recognize the thoughts and let them go, but they continued to pop up. The recurrent thought that he was failing even at this simple task was one that he watched float upward through his mind many times. Fighting, he breathed. After a few minutes, Clarus opened his eyes and touched his son's hand.

"Add this to the list of things I suck at, I guess," he grumbled. He was sure his father had simply switched over to a thoughtless, peaceful place. His inability to do so was just another sign of his failure.

This time Clarus took both of Gladio's shoulders in his hands. "Why would you think focus and concentration are different from physical strength? What we did here today, this will make you just the smallest bit stronger. And tomorrow, you build on it, and the days after that. You know this," he chided, drawing his son close into a trademark Amicitia bear hug.

Gladio sighed out and hugged his father back. "I just worry that I won't be enough sometimes, you know?" At that, Clarus felt the threat of tears prick behind his eyes, remembering round brown eyes blinking up at him from a swaddle in his arms, filled with complete trust and innocence. He leaned into the hug and sighed in return.

"I do. It's part of the process, but one that you must hasten to put behind you. Doubt is weakness, and I'm afraid we haven't got time for that anymore." Clarus held him at arm's length and a blue gaze bored into him again.

Gladio cleared his throat and stood up straighter. "I understand. I'll be ready. Thanks, Dad."

Clarus smiled and departed. Gladio looked out the window at a clear, purple sky dotted with stars. He stretched, yawned, and decided to head to bed.

As he turned to shuffle down the hall, he noticed a moogle plushie propped outside the door. Looked like Iris had left it, as she did sometimes to "keep him company" when he was up late training or studying. He picked the stuffed toy up and looked at it thoughtfully, his free hand clenching in resolve.


End file.
